


Water On Fire

by greggrulzok



Category: Fandom (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: I'm not really sure where I want this story to go but trust me I do have plans, Indie Music, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Representation, first original work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-10 18:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15955022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greggrulzok/pseuds/greggrulzok
Summary: Life was peaceful for the small band. Nick was making new connections and getting to know the other band mates. Tyler was discovering things about himself he never knew. Page had an idea that would bring their small group of animals out of the shadows. Boris was on the road to success. Nora was becoming more understood. The five animals were fine. Then, one of the band members goes missing. The rest of the band will soon discover that fame isn't quite what it's cracked up to be and that one person can change everything.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I'm Keaton. I just wanted to thank you for clicking on this story. I'm usually very self-conscious about original works. When it's fanfiction, I don't have to worry about if people will like my characters or the world I'm building. That's because someone else created them, I'm just puppeteering new events for them. It doesn't take me that long to write a chapter, usually a day or two, but I've been working on this one for weeks. I really want to create a good and detailed story that people are interested in, and will keep coming back to. I spent a lot of time thinking about who I wanted these characters to be and how I wanted everything to play out, and I think I have some sort of concrete idea now. The first chapter is just setup of course, but the story and its characters will definitely continue to grow throughout. I always have LGBTQIA representation in my stories, that way I write someone everyone can enjoy. Anyway, without further ado, I give you chapter one of my original work about an indie rock band turned inside out: Water on Fire.

Chapter 1 - Intro 

**Nick**

 “You saved me one, right?”

Suddenly, my lips were curling into a smile. Here came a familiar German shepherd, wearing a ratty old grey t-shirt with its sleeves haphazardly cut off. The hole in the knee of his ripped jeans seemed bigger than they were a few hours ago. In his right paw, he’s holding his guitar case, and as he approaches me he sets it down next to mine.

“You’re too late. The whole pack’s gone,” I say, smirking and pulling a cigarette out of my mouth after inhaling the smoke. I hold it between my fore and middle fingers, grinning with mischief at my newfound company. He crosses his arms and leans against the brick wall behind us.

“Funny. Hand it over.” He holds his paw out, expectantly. I chuckle softly and reach into my pocket, pulling out the small box and dropping into his hand. He removes a cig and places it between his teeth as I give him my lighter. “Thanks,” he says as he lights his cigarette.

“No problem,” I shrug, leaning back against the wall once more. There’s a comforting silence as we stand there, smoking and enjoying each other’s silent presence. The sky is a mix of somber oranges, slight yellows, and quiet purples as the day nears its end. There’s a soft breeze and then the scraping of leaves against the ground as they scoot by us in small twirling cyclones. After a few minutes, the social silence starts wearing on me. “You picked an interesting spot to meet.”

“Yeah, well...My old man got after me. He doesn’t want us practicing in the garage anymore,” the shepherd explains. He has this frustrated look in his eyes like there’s more to the story, but I decide not to press for details.

“What!? But we were so close to mastering Transmutation! I was really hitting the guitar solo.” I frown, kicking a small rock and watching it frantically jump around as if it were surprised it was touched. “What did Boris say?”

“He did exactly what you would expect,” the dog says. “Started suggesting a ton of new places to practice. I told him I’d handle it.”

“Smart choice,” I sighed. “Well, did you handle it?”

“Duh. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be standing in an alleyway off Main,” he rolls his milk chocolate eyes. He takes another puff of smoke. I stand there, just looking at him for a moment. The smell of smoke envelops us as I think of how strangely comforting it is. My mother always smoked as I was growing up, so I’ve grown accustomed to the strong scent of fresh cigarettes. Now that I smoke myself, I find it highly enjoyable. Can’t say the same for others, though...

Another thought occurs to me, and it’s so spontaneous and out of the blue that my eyes widen a bit. _Everything will change. We’ll grow up and we won’t be standing around in alleyways any more. We’ll be wearing suits or tending to our kids or paying the bills. There won’t be any time to enjoy the breeze or share a cigarette, and the moments we_ do _have to think, we’ll be wondering, ‘Where did the time go?’_

I blink for a moment, astonished at the sudden growing feeling of wanting to escape the inevitable cycle of adulthood. The band wouldn’t sell out and we wouldn’t go on tour or anything, but there had to be some way out. I focus my eyes again after realizing I’m staring. Focused them on Ty, as the new feeling grew inside my chest.

Tyler Finlay had not actually been my best friend since elementary or middle school, as many would think. I actually met him last year, when I didn’t realize my headphones hadn’t been plugged in, so a song by the band Dormitory played out loud in class for everyone to hear. I was so flustered and embarrassed, I stopped it quickly and just kind of looked down the rest of the period. After it ended, Ty came up to me and told me he'd know that guitar riff anywhere, and that he was pretty much obsessed with Dormitory. I had laughed nervously and told him that I knew all of the band’s discography by heart, and the conversation went on from there. Eventually, we decided to form our own band, holding auditions we honestly didn’t expect anyone to go to.

Surprisingly, there were a good amount of animals that wanted to audition, so one weekend, we spent all day listening to auditioners play and sing, grading their performances on a scale of one to ten. And what could I say other than there is some talent at our school (We both agreed that the members of the band had to be from the school, for convenience)! It was a hard decision, but finally, we had the five members of our band, Water On Fire.

First off, there was Page Leuzinger, the drummer. A white and black bunny. She actually didn’t do all that well on her audition, but her persistence was the real reason we accepted her. She auditioned multiple times, each time seeming more determined than the last. Tyler claimed she was desperate and we should let her go, but I really believed she wanted to be in the band for another reason, so we accepted her. Page is as cool as cool gets. She sports that rockin’ red hoodie, which gives her character, but she also never seems to be put down by anything, and in today’s society, that’s a rare find. She’s always open-minded about everything and the icing on top of the cake is her lively smile.  

Then there was Boris Downing, the pianist. A dark brown otter. When he auditioned, we had no doubt that he had more than enough talent to be a band member. It was strange to us when he came dressed all fancy as if he thought this was more of a concert style band than an indie rock band. Nonetheless, it just worked. At first, Ty was confused about why we needed someone who played piano for a rock band, and I told him to just trust me. After hearing some other bands that had really pretty flourishes and flowery piano in their music, I just believed wholeheartedly that it was what we needed. I was right.

Boris is the type of guy who envisions everything beforehand and attempts to follow that plan all the way through. If something gets botched along the way, he makes it known that things are going the wrong way. I’m pretty sure he has OCD or something. I can see him standing in the middle of his room, analyzing the space and calculating where the item in his hand should go, making sure that when it got there, it would always go back there if it got moved, like everything in his room.

A while after Boris auditioned, Nora Lynne the white spotted deer came prancing in with her handcrafted violin, her fur almost a golden brown.  I remember the weird face Tyler made when he saw her instrument. He was so confused. I was one hundred percent for having a violinist in the group, and she was the only one that tried out on that instrument. When she was finished, I remember standing and immediately telling her she was in the band, before Ty could argue otherwise.

Nora is the antithesis of Page. She’s quiet and doesn’t say much, and I can’t ever tell if she’s faking a smile or not. They all look so...forced? I often wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. But her quietness has an almost beautiful quality to it.  

Finally, we had our two guitarists; Tyler and I. If there were ever a song to have a guitar solo and you needed someone to tear it up, Tyler was your guy. The dude can nail any guitar solo with shocking accuracy. Watching him play is an experience, so having a band with him is honestly kind of crazy when I think about it.

Tyler is pretty much your average guy. He’s nice and jokes around, he can be serious when he needs to be, he’s passionate about the things he’s interested in, much like me. I can’t think of a better friend. He’s always been there for me when I needed him, and the advice he can give is surprisingly good. Almost makes me wonder if he gets the advice from someone else first...

Then, there’s me, Nicholas Flynn. A hyena. Like I mentioned before, I’m one of the guitarists, but I’m also the vocalist and songwriter. Now, I know I’m good enough at singing, but when it comes to songwriting, I get super self-conscious. It takes a lot of time to make something unique that isn’t about sex, love, or drugs. Now, I’m not saying all of our songs aren’t about that stuff, it’s just inevitable. When I get on that stage to perform them, though, I always get this tight feeling in my chest. What do they think of the songs I wrote? Do people even care that it’s meaningful? People just want to dance, but I want to provide something for everyone. Sigh.

I like to think of myself as the kind of guy people admire but don’t tell him they admire him. Like silent admiration. I feel like I’m cool enough to be admired from afar. I like to think someone other than Tyler thinks that. I’m basically obsessed with all kinds of music, and...that’s about it. Whenever I try to think of what I’m like, music is all I can think of. It kind of worries me, because I bet everyone else can pinpoint their personalities, but maybe music is the only thing keeping me from being a lame bore. Oh shit.

“Should we get going?”

“Huh?” I blink, shaking my head, only really registering that it was Tyler that spoke. “What?”

“I asked if we should get going,” Tyler says, rubbing the charred tip of his cigarette on the brick wall and then flicking it onto the ground. “But now that I think about it, we should probably wait for the others, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“...”

“...”

“How’re you and Adam doing?”

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about it, Nick,” Tyler says, looking the other way solemnly.

“I know, I saw the text, but Tyler, I’m your best friend, and as your best friend it’s my job to know how your love life is going.” I try to smile and cheer him up, but he just looks at the ground like a child ashamed when its parent scolds it.

“We’re finished,” he mumbles. “Another guy, gone.”

“I don’t get it.” I feel my brows furrowing. “The other day, you said you were doing ‘just awesome, Nick.’ You told me ‘he’s the one, Nick, and I’m absolutely sure we were made for each other!’ Those were your exact words.”

He looks at me with disdain, and I feel like I might’ve said the wrong thing. Why did I say that? Stupid. “Things change, okay? There’s a lot going on--it’s complicated--and...will you just shut up about it? I already feel like shit.”

“Jeez, okay.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it.”

“...”

“...”

“He wasn’t the best person.”

“I know.”

“Then why’re you surprised?”

“I don’t know. Is that why you broke up with him?”

“...”

“Sorry.”

“It’s whatever. I guess I was just meant to be alone.”

“Oh hush with that cliche bullshit. What are you, every depressed person ever? You don’t even have depression.”

“Yeah, I know. After a while of dating and breaking up and dating and breaking up, it just wears on you, ya know?” He turns and faces me, leaning his shoulder against the wall now. His arms are crossed and I can see that he’s thinking. “Nick?”

“Yeah?” I’m hoping he doesn’t say or ask what I think he’s going to say or ask. I hold my breath without even realizing it. He scratches the back of his neck, clearing his throat.

“Let’s never get together, okay?”

“Agreed. You’re not my type, anyway,” I let out the pointless air I’m holding in, then stick my tongue out, teasingly.

“Oh? And what type is that?” He smirks.

“The best friend type,” I say, very seriously. He looks shocked about how not joking I am right now. I mean it, though. This isn’t one of those things where I deny I’m in love with my best friend and we end up together. I hereby swear I will never date Tyler Finlay. Ever.

“Man, you took the words right outta my mouth,” He says. “It wouldn’t be good for the band, but more importantly, it just wouldn’t be good for us.”

“I totally agree. Plus, I don’t even know if I like guys.” We’re both smiling. It feels good to have had this talk. Almost cathartic, for some reason. We talk for a few more minutes, then Boris comes up, wearing his cute fancy clothes, as he does. He pretty much looks like he’s dressed to go the prom, but all the time.

I don’t know how he makes it look like he’s wearing that outfit so casually. When I wear fancier clothes, I almost feel obligated to attend a formal event or something. I remind myself to ask sometime.

“Hey, Boris.” Tyler lifts a paw, not really waving. I smile and wave.

“Hello, Tyler. Nicholas,” the otter smiles, moving his fingers around like weird little worms.

I just watch, probably with a concerned face. “Uh, whatcha doing there?”

“Oh.” He glances at his fingers and then back at me. “Just preparing my digits to play.”

“Is that really how you do it?” I look at my own fingers. “I thought you just cracked your fingers before you played, but then again, what do I know?” I laugh, scratching behind my right ear.

“It works for me and that’s what matters,” Boris said, continuing to do his weird finger-worm thing. “So what’s the deal with having to move practice locations? And are you absolutely positive this new place has a piano for me?”

“Oh, my dad just--for some reason--doesn’t want us practicing in the garage anymore. Maybe we just rocked too hard for him...And yes, there is definitely a piano. I made sure Josiah had what we need. You know, he used to be a drummer in a small garage band like ours, but he switched to more formal piano playing once the band split.” Tyler explained.

I didn’t know that. Josiah, a red fox, had--according to Tyler--told us we could practice in his garage since we couldn’t practice in our usual spot anymore. Not only that; he also said we could use his drums, equipment, and piano. I don’t really know much about Josiah other than that he’s a fox. He’s more Tyler’s friend than mine, but I wouldn’t pass up the generous offer he was giving us just because I didn’t know him. Though, I doubt any of us really know how to use musical recording equipment.

“Ah, I see. Well, that’s unfortunate. As long as we have somewhere else to practice, it’s fine. This is healthy for me, so it would be a shame not to have it.” The otter’s nose twitched and he made a face. “What’s that smell?”

“Oh, we were smoking before you came. Sorry,” I apologize, shrugging because there wasn’t really anything I could do.

“Ugh, do you have to?” Boris groaned, covering his nose. “I hate the smell of cigarette smoke.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” I wave my hand around to clear out the smell, but honestly, I just did it so I would at least look like I was attempting to solve the problem.

“Oh, was someone smoking?” Nora asked, coming up to our little group of three-now-turned-four. She’s wearing a simple short dress with a white to sunset orange gradient, but it looks absolutely stunning on her for something so plain. On her back was her black violin case, holding her most prized possession inside.

“Nick and Tyler,” Boris commented, jabbing his thumb at us. Note to self: Smoke somewhere other than the meeting place next time. I wonder if Tyler is making the same mental note, but why does that matter?

“Oh,” Nora just waved her a hoof around a bit before placing her hoof on her arm, glancing at the cigarette on the asphalt. “Just try to do it a little earlier next time,” she mumbles.

“We get it. Smoking bad,” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Agh, I’m the last one,” Page says, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. She’s mysterious like that. Good Ol’ Page. “I got caught up with something, sorry.” She has her paws in the pockets of the notorious red hoodie she’s always wearing. She doesn’t mention the smell, because she probably doesn’t care.

“It’s no big deal,” I say, waving her off. “Nora just showed up, like, thirty seconds ago, so...You’re not late.”

“Yeah it’s fine,” Tyler says. “Should we get going?”

“Yeah, we really need to brush up on that one spot in Transmutation,” Boris reminds everyone, as he is known to do. Seriously, he makes sure to point out _all_ the places that need work. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so beneficial, to be honest.

“Are you talking about the part where Nick’s voice always cracks?” Page asks, poking my shoulder. I frown.

“It’s a hard note to hit!”

“The problem is you guys always break out laughing during that part, which is something we can’t do on stage! We have to learn to remain composed,” Boris says, tapping his foot.

“Psh, you do it too, Boris,” Page laughed, enjoying Boris’s reaction.

“O-only because you guys are laughing!” he argued. “Let’s just get out of here.”

* * *

 

“Okay, okay. That was me that time. Sorry.” Tyler smiles sheepishly, holding up his paws.

“It was you the last _three_ times,” Boris points out. “What’s going on?” I already know the answer to this question. The breakup must be distracting him. I feel weird being the only person that knows.

“Oh,” the shepherd blinks. “Uh, it’s nothing. I dunno.” He looks at me for help. I shake my head, signaling I have no clue what to say or how to assist him. This was his own thing anyway, so he should be the one to figure it out. Of course, then the otter has to be the worst person ever at that moment.

“Well, now you just made it obvious there’s something going on between you two. Spill the tea,” the smaller animal demands as we all turn our bodies to face him.  My eyes glide over to Tyler, whose face says it all. He’s going to have to come out to them.

On the topic of coming out, I never really got why Tyler wanted to hide his sexuality from everyone. Then again, none of the band members really _knew_ each other, like, at all. Apart from Tyler and I, we don’t talk mono e mono. Sure, there’s a group chat, but it’s pretty much strictly for band stuff. During school, we give nods and such to each other when we see one another in the hallway, but other than that it’s like that one person you were friends with for two years and then all of a sudden you come back next year and they just completely cut all ties with you but there’s still that little nod of recognition or kindness you share. It’s nice but also uncomfortable. Here we are in this band together, having great chemistry, and yet, I don’t even know Page’s favorite color, or Boris’s favorite song, or Nora’s favorite food.

Oh wait. Maybe I’m the problem. I mean, I complain about not knowing my fellow band mates, and yet, what have I done to warrant such knowledge? Yikes. Also, yay songwriting inspiration.

“Dude,” Tyler taps my shoulder. “That’s the second time today.” I blink, looking down at the guitar in my hand and then at Ty, as if I was just realizing where I was.

“Sorry, I get distracted sometimes,” I say.

“We know,” Boris says, and I make a face at him. He shrugs because he knows he’s right. Damn.

Page sets her drumsticks down onto one of the snares, accidentally pushing the pedal with her foot, causing the mallet to smack the bass with a soft _thud._ “Should we just call it a day? I mean, it’s obvious that not everyone’s in the right headspace. Maybe we should--”

“I’m gay,” Tyler says, turning to look at everyone, his eyes sliding across the room at each of us, as I blink because that was weird timing.

“Okay,” Nora had been continually fiddling with her instrument as the conversation went on, but now she put it down, a hand on her hip.

“Okay? Aren’t you surprised or something?”

“Um...It’s not surprising anymore. You do realize there’s barely any straight people at our school, right? Except for Boris.” She attempts the joke, and I have to give her props for that. Though, it looks like she immediately regrets saying it.

“Boris is like the leader of the small group of straight people at school,” Page laughs, tapping her fingers on the snare, clearly itching to play.

“What? You don’t know that!” Boris says. “I don’t know that.”

“Hey...” I say, looking at him sympathetically, “Me neither.”

“I love Scott Pilgrim!” Page says, her face glowing.

“Oh my god, me too. Don’t you love that part when--”

“Guys! We need to focus!” Tyler bursts. “Josiah will be back soon and then we’ll have to leave. Well, you’ll have to leave. I need to stay behind and learn how to use some of this equipment he left for us.”

“Right, right.” I nod, putting my paws back on my guitar. “Don’t forget to tell him thanks for letting us use his garage.”

“I will, I will. Now can we please continue?”

* * *

 

“Hey, Nick, wait up!” Page says, catching up to me as I walk down the sidewalk after rehearsal. This is the first time anyone from the band, besides Tyler, has wanted to talk after a practice. I smile a bit because it feels like a small victory.

“Hi,” I say, my voice cracking against the cold breeze.

“Wow,” the bunny laughs. “You have the golden voice.”

“Praise me,” I look down at her. “The Golden Boy.”

“All hail Nick,” she says, moving her arms up and down while we walk and snicker. Page looks up at the bleak and lifeless sky as her nose twitches. “Looks like it’s gonna rain.”

“Yeah, I can smell it.”

“Where were you going?”

“Food.”

“Alone?”

“As usual.”

“You usually eat dinner alone?”

“Mhm.”

“Ah, I see.” She looks down and I don’t notice it, but she’s stepping over every crack in the sidewalk. I also find it interesting that she didn’t further question why I eat alone.

“You wanna join?” I offer, because heck, why not. She looks up at me with a smile, but not an overly eager smile. Just a chill smile, no big deal.

“I’m thinking sushi,” Page comments, as if we already had plans this whole time, and I respect her so damn much right now for that.

“You read my mind.”

“Good, because if you didn’t like it you could just get miso soup or something.”

“Well, I like both. Food is just good in general.”

“So you’re not picky?”

“Nah. What’s the point?”

“I guess to be satisfied. I don’t know. If you’re going to eat something you need to survive, might as well like it, right?”

“Huh. At least I know why picky people are the way they are now. You learn something new every day.”

“Unless you sleep through the whole day.”

“You do that?”

“I’ve done that.” She hops over a patch of grass poking its green tendrils out of the cement and I don’t really understand why she does what she does, but that’s fine.

“You wasted a whole day of your life,” I comment, frowning.

“Maybe. Or did I?”

“You did.”

* * *

 

Page and I must have been fated to meet or whatever, because she didn’t even say where we were going, and yet we strolled on into my favorite sushi place. No discussion needed.

“You ever been to a rotating sushi bar?” She asks, watching the food go around in circles from their little domes. I think about that one Stephen King book I haven’t read.

“Yep. This is my favorite sushi place, actually.”

“Damn, I’m good.” A smirk.

“No kidding. You do realize that we’re gonna have to wait a while, right? We didn’t get our names on the list yet.” There’s a feeling of knowing she’s going to pull out her phone with that artsy case I admire and say; “It’s cool. I thought of everything.”

“Welp, I guess I’m not as good as I thought,” she laughs.

“It’s fine. I can put us on the list.” I step up in line.

“I’ll be sitting over there.” She points, and I nod as she walks over and takes a seat. It’s amusing to me how her feet don’t touch the floor, being a bunny and all.

* * *

 

The waiting was good. We talked some more and I found out she has a nuclear family. Her father is an engineer working at some company I’ve never heard of. Her mother is a singer who kids that listen to indie rock know very well. I almost couldn’t believe it when I heard it. Page said not to make a big fuss about it, but how could I not? Her brother is younger than her, and he’s the typical younger brother. He plays clarinet in the band, which I admire.  Other than that, the waiting period was a lot of talking about random things, mostly about school. Soon enough, we were sitting down.

“I still can’t believe your mom is Elle Leuzinger,” I say. “I have all the albums by that band, except _Judication._ They really fell off the deep end on that one.”

“I actually think that’s her best album,” Page comments, picking up a menu and observing it, as I furrow my brow. I don’t question it but if she wanted sushi there was no need to look at the menu. It was right there floating on by us.

“Huh. I guess I was being closed minded when I heard it.” I glance to my left and see the waiter approaching us. I already know what I want. I always know what I want because it’s always the same thing.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” the cat asks with a heavy accent I can’t quite pin down. It’s definitely Asian, but I don’t want to assume a specific country.

“Just water for me,” Page says, which surprises me because she seems like a soda kind of girl.

“And I’ll have a coke, I guess.” The ‘I guess’ part throws me off because why would I say that if I already knew what I want? Nonetheless, the waiter writes down our drink orders and walks off.

“You should hear it again,” Page says, ripping into a pack of chopsticks.

“What?”

“ _Judication._ I swear it’s a really good album.” She turns her head as the sushi passes by dome by miniature dome, and I can see the hunger in her eyes.

“Alright, I believe you.”

“Good, cause I’m right.”

I smile at this. The way she holds herself and the amount of confidence that just radiates off of her is astonishing.

“You know...I know how to use that music equipment,” the bunny tells me, leaning on the table with both of her arms.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because if the band breaks up and Tyler wants to continue on in music, he’ll know how to use shit.

“What? You already think the band is gonna break up?” I laugh.

The smaller animal turns her head toward the conveyor belt. “I never said that. I said _if_ the band breaks up. We definitely have chemistry, we just need to learn how to put that chemistry to good use.” And she’s right. Getting distracted isn’t very good if you’re trying to get better at something. It’s like an artist who has all the ideas for these beautiful paintings and drawings but procrastinates so much that they never get things done. Sure, we have the ideas and basis of what we want our music to be, but we don’t get nearly as much done because we get sidetracked or start arguing. Luckily, Boris helps us get back on track, but I feel bad because Nora usually just watches us quietly when we go off the rails, probably wishing she was in a more productive group.

“So what kind of sushi are you thinking about getting?”

She stays silent for a moment, as her eyes trail a particular sushi dome. “Not sure...Might just start grabbing them and shoving ‘em into my mouth.”

“Hahaha, go ahead.” I can’t believe how relatable this person in front of me is. I think about the band and how I haven’t really grown my connections with them and this leads me to thinking about today’s practice. “Practice was pretty shitty, huh?”

She reaches forward and opens a dome, sliding the plate out and setting in front of her. It looks like she got California rolls, but I’m not sure. It definitely has crab. “You said it, not me.” Her eyes move to me and I realize I’m making a confused face. “I think any practice is good practice.”

“It was hardly practice,” I remind her, picking up a package of chopsticks and ripping it open. “We got way more distracted than usual.”

“Yeah but…” Two cracks as our two pairs of chopsticks become four individual ones. “...Think about it. Practice is so a band can grow and get better, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Tyler came out to us, and I think the band grew because of that. It brought us closer.” She explains this to me and I really wonder why I’ve barely been talking to her. The bunny picks up one of her rolls with her chopsticks and takes a bite, leaving half and setting down on her plate.

Wow. I thought she would just put the whole thing into her mouth. “Dude, you’re so right. Damn.” I must constantly look like a shocked idiot.

“Dude, I know. Anyway, pretty successful practice, if you ask me. More successful than others.”

“For real.” It’s my turn to grab sushi, so I decide on spicy tuna. I set the plate down in front of me and admire the spicy mustard since it’s the best part. The breading sprinkled on top gives the roll a kind of perfect balance between crunchy and soft. Page finishes her first roll as I completely devour both of mine. My eyes are already scanning the conveyer for more.

“Transmutation is absolutely beautiful, by the way.” Page says, smiling. I hold my breath because it’s such a pure smile.

“Thanks. I worked really hard on it.” I blush a bit. “Like, the day I had the idea for it and started singing some of the lyrics and rhythms, I completely went into overdrive and worked on it all night. I was so tired the next day, and I woke up drooling on my desk.”

“What’s it about?” Still loving the fact that she doesn’t question my actions.

“I’ll tell you later,” I say this because I don’t know the answer...yet.

Her ears flatten and I feel myself smiling more. “Aww...Well, I can wait.”

There’s no talking for a whole minute as we just down sushi rolls. It really is nice, and I constantly wonder what Page could be thinking about. Finally, I decide to spill the tea. “Tyler broke up with his boyfriend and I guess it really messed with him. I’m worried, but I get it.”

“Ah, now I get why he was acting like that,” Page nods. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You blanked out too. He got on you because of it.”

“Oh, that’s just how I am sometimes. Sometimes I just get so lost in my head that I completely check out. People worry about me a lot because of it. My mom calls me an ‘active dreamer,’ but I don’t really know what that means.”

“Ah, I see. You’re gay too, or…?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. I really don’t. I don’t even know how to describe where I am with my sexuality other than that.

“Cool.”

* * *

 

“That was nice.” I turn to the bunny with a soft smile as we stand in the soft glow of the restaurants light outside. It rained while we were eating, and I could feel the humidity stick to my fur. The sky is dark and the stars are dim, many of them invisible because of the city lights, but if it were up to me, I’d take city lights over stars any day.

Dad told me the country was where you could see billions of stars overhead, and it was the most glorious sight one could see. I don’t believe him. The country is so isolated and eerily quiet, I feel like I would go crazy without the constant hum of urban buzz. Plus, if you’re murdered, it’s way harder to find your body out there.

“Well gee you don’t have to go crazy or anything,” Page says sarcastically, “I can’t handle it. If you didn’t have a good time, you can just be honest with me.”

“What? I mean it!”

“I know, I know.” Eye roll. “I really gotta get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“But we have school tomorrow.”

“I know. Guess I’ll see you in the halls.” She runs off, leaving me alone. I immediately begin walking home, plugging my headphones into my ears and using YouTube to hear _Judication._ I pay attention this time...

...And wow is it magical.

* * *

 

I’m soaked. Completely. The rain, of course, had to start again while I was heading home, drenching my happy little ass. I feel so uncomfortable because I can just feel my wet shorts pressing against my inner thighs. Yuck.

I get inside after wiping my feet on the mat and feel grateful the lamp is on. My parents know I feel anxious walking into the house if it’s pitch black. The large clock on the far wall ticks softly as I shut the door, the sound of the rain muffled now.

“Hello? Guys?” No response. “Anyone home?” I check all the rooms--it’s a relatively small house, three bedroom, one bath--before realizing that Dad and Mom are at the movies. I wasn’t freaked out or anything. Really. I smile. “And with that. It’s shower time.”

I grab my comfy silk pants which were previously nonchalantly tossed onto the bed, a pink shirt which was smaller than I remember, and some grey underwear, then head to the bathroom.

I let the water run as I strip down, humming. Once I’m inside and the awesome feeling of the hot water running down my back is in motion, I sing.

I usually sing in the shower, doing this thing where I just make up songs on the fly. This time, I create a rhythm that sounds a lot like Crown of Love by Arcade Fire. Before I know it, I’m completely invested in singing the original, realizing it sounds good with me instead of Win Butler as the vocals. Maybe even good enough to cover. After all, covering the band you’re inspired by isn’t uncommon with artists.

I’m still humming the song as I lay in bed and curl up under the covers, staring at my phone screen like the teenager I am. There are no interesting emails, so I browse YouTube for anything new. I could have texted Page, but I feel like it just isn’t the right time yet.

A few movie reviews and one vine compilation later, I am completely and utterly attempting to keep my eyes open. There’s a point every night when I feel like this, and that’s how I know it’s time to conk out.

As I sleep, I dream of running away, to anywhere else but here.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned in this chapter:
> 
> Arcade Fire - Crown of Love https://youtube.com/watch?v=kxkK06HlggA


	2. Seventeen

Chapter 2 - Seventeen 

**Page**

I want to be young forever. I know that’s too much to ask and it always will be, but life couldn’t be any better right now. Nick actually hung out with me for once, which was good. I feel like it was good. My parents are the two best animals I’ve ever met. It feels like everyone around me has parents who are divorced, but not this bunny—my family is still intact. I have a great relationship with my brother, Roger, who sometimes plays clarinet for me. I think it’s really nice how excited he is to show me a new song. Or, that’s how it used to be. Things have simmered down between us, but we still talk and hang from time to time. I’m passing in school and I don’t think there’s an animal there that dislikes me.

Plus, I have the idea for an amazing song that will rocket our little garage band from small gigs to filled stadiums. I know it will work. I’ve studied some indie bands that have become more popular because of one song, and I found out some things.

1) The song has to relate to everybody so that way it touches their hearts and makes them feel like they know this band because the animals in it are just like them. Just because a band is famous, doesn’t mean they don’t have everyday problems. All animals face them. It’s just reality. Bands want to create music people can relate to, which is why songs about love work so well. People can relate to being broken up with or cheated on because a majority of people will have this happen to them. 2) It has to be memorable. Not saying that it has to be catchy, no, but memorable. The instrumentation and rhythm have to appeal to the musical senses and be pleasant and easy to listen to. 3) It has to be easy to sing. A band’s most popular song is usually the one everyone knows the lyrics to. This is because the lyrics are interesting enough for people to want to learn, and the song is great enough that the people want to memorize the lyrics.

This formula must be the key to a band’s success. Nick is a great writer and I love his powerful lyricism, but I feel like everything he writes is more based on personal experiences, which is completely fine, but as I said, an audience wants to hear something they can relate to. Maybe I’m completely wrong, but who knows.

The alarm is going off. Something Good by alt-J is playing softly. I can hear it, but I’m still in that area between being asleep and being awake. “Mleh...would you just shut it…” I fumble my paws around my body and discover my phone tucked into the space where my torso meets the mattress. I always fall asleep with my phone in bed, so this is a regular ritual for me.

I grip the device as the piano is in mid-flourish, and tap the snooze button, already having memorized its location. The music stops and I sigh, closing my eyes again. This is my time to think since falling asleep is a bad idea, though that has happened to me on more than one occasion.

I usually think about random things, but today I think about rocking out on stage with the other members of Water On Fire. That name is totally cool, right? I have no doubt people will love it.

Back when it was our fourth or fifth practice, something was nagging at me. I stopped playing and everyone turned to me.

“Uh, Page...We lost ya there,” Boris said as if that wasn’t obvious.

“You good?” Tyler asked, of course being concerned for my well being, as he usually was.

“We can take a break if you need it.” This is coming from Nick, who’s being considerate, as he does. Nora doesn’t say anything, which doesn’t surprise me. She’s not the type to confront someone, really.

I had set my sticks down, rubbing my paws together. “I was just wondering, who came up with the band name?”

“I did,” Nick said. “What, you don’t like it?”

In my head, I knew he was doing that Nick thing that he does. He does this thing where if you ask a certain question about something he did or made, he’ll assume you don’t like it or want it to change. He acts really self-conscious sometimes for no reason. The stuff he does is great, so why would he doubt himself? “No, I like it. I was just wondering why you chose it.”

“Well...My favorite band is Arcade Fire, and I was thinking about their lyrics and how poetic they are, and I wanted the name for our band to be something that has meaning. So I thought for hours on end and went through many different names, finally choosing a name that was inspired by my favorite band. What do you think of when you think of water?”

“That guy doing the bottle flip challenge,” Tyler said.

“Those little water things with the birds that you see in offices,” Boris added.

“The ocean,” Nora said.

“A pond,” I said, imagining a frog swimming around in there in the peculiar way frogs do. Nick looked between Nora and me, nodding. Of course, he ignored the guys.

“Right. Ponds and oceans are both peaceful places, when--”

“Ah, but they’re not always. What about during storms?” Boris asked, of course trying to make an anomaly (thanks, sociology class) out of the situation.

Nick rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Anyway, typically we think of water as a peaceful and serendipitous thing. What pops into your head when you think of fire?”

“Death and destruction,” I commented, and everyone pretty much agreed with me.

“Yeah, fire is a destructive and chaotic force,” Nick explained, making a little explosion gesture with his paws (he’s often gesturing when he talks).

Boris raised his index finger and opened his mouth. “But water can’t catch on fire, under normal circumstances. Pure water can if it comes into contact with sodium or aluminum powder at high temperature, but I’m assuming this isn’t pure water we’re talking about.”

“Dude, it’s metaphorical,” I said, shaking my head. Seriously, Boris.

“I don’t get it.” Tyler strummed some notes on his guitar, not taking his eyes off Nick.

“Basically the idea of the name Water On Fire is like the collision of peacefulness and chaos, as life can often be.”

“Woah,” a few of the animals in the room said, including me. They got the name now. Nick held his paw up, gesturing for us to let him continue.

“Buuut...If you think of it in another sense, it could also mean something peaceful turning into something chaotic. A long time ago, we were driving to my grandma’s place and everything was going fine and normal as you’d expect it to. Suddenly, there was a crash a few cars in front of us, and this created a domino effect of crashing cars, and everything became more chaotic than it had been just a few minutes ago. Get what I’m saying?” Nick raised his brows to make sure we were catching all this information and tossing it into our brains.

“Yeah, I totally understand now. Thanks, Nick,” I smiled at him, and I remember the confident smile he gave back. He really believed in the name he chose for us.

Now, as I lay here thinking about the wonderful future my song is going to create for us, I think about Nick, and the fun we had yesterday. I wish he had talked more about himself and his family since it was only fair. I talked about mine! It’s cool, though. He had a lot of other interesting things to say, so I can’t really complain.

I thought it was a little weird he didn’t text me, though.

I mean, I honestly thought we would have been at least to that point after hanging yesterday. Maybe I just don’t understand how things work. I dunno.

A few minutes later, I hardly realize I had dozed off before Something Good is blaring in my ear. I groan and turn off the alarm. _I don’t wanna go to school...My bed is too comfy. Damn it. Do I feel like pretending to be sick, though?_ No. I didn’t. I don’t know why I consider pretending to be sick considering actually being at school is fine.

I sit up and stretch, get out of bed and do my morning routine, then head downstairs to make breakfast. It’s no surprise to me when I find Roger down there, eating cereal and watching videos on his phone. I creep up behind the black and white bunny, putting my arms around him.

“Hey, sis,” he says, moving a finger to pause the video.

“Morning, Roger. Sleep well?” I rest my chin on his head and look down, only really able to see his muzzle and nose that is somehow darker than his fur.

“Meh. Could be better. I had a weird dream, though.” I feel my chin sliding against his head as he attempts to look up at me. I move and release him, stepping back. He turns in his chair toward me.

“What about?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Well, I was driving the car, which was weird since I don’t know how to drive a car,” he started, as I began to make breakfast, his eyes following me and his body swiveling on the seat as I move about the kitchen. I decide to make ramen for breakfast because it’s a free country. “And I drove it into the river, but instead of just sinking I just kept driving forward. And then you were there drowning in the water and I just drove right past you.”

I turn my head toward him. “Gee, thanks. What a hero.”

“What? It’s not like I had any control over it,” he says. “We can’t control our dreams, Page.”

My paw reaches into the pantry to fondle the square packets of ramen, my eyes scanning the flavors. I can’t decide if I want shrimp or oriental. “I mean, there are lucid dreams.”

“What’s that?” Roger asks, blinking. I grab the shrimp packet and toss it onto the counter. It knocks against the instant ramen bowl I set there and sends it crashing to the ground.

“It’s like...how do I explain…” I grab the bowl off the floor and return it to the counter, opening the packet of ramen and setting the hard rectangular prism of noodles inside. Time to fill it with water. “It’s like when you’re aware that you’re in a dream. Basically, once you realize it, you can control the dream, and the decisions you make in it. I’ve had a few.”

His ears spring up, my head cranes towards him as I fill the bowl with water. I definitely let it fill up too much as I listen to him talk. “Really? Tell me about one!”

“Maybe later, dude. I can’t think of any off the top of my head.” I adjust the water level to be just right and put my breakfast in the microwave. I lean back on the counter, watching my little brother.

“Aw, no way,” he frowns. “Well, whatever.” He looks down and frowns, picking up some of the mush that was now in his bowl and letting it fall back into the milk. “My cereal got soggy…”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” I say, “You always get distracted so easily. I told you a hundred times to focus on eating more than socializing.”

He huffs and puts his bowl in the sink. “I know, but it’s haaard…I’m gonna go get ready for school.” He turns to leave.

“Ah, don’t forget to rinse out your bowl,” I remind him. “Dad told me to tell you to stop forgetting.”

“Why doesn’t he get that I forget so easily?” Roger groaned. “It’s not like I’m trying to!”

“I know, but remember what Dr. Murray said?”

“No, that’s my whole point!”

I laugh. “He told you that only you can start doing things to help you remember. The medicine is just a step.”

“But what if I forget about those things?”

“Well, shit, guess you’re effed.”

“I was effed from the start.”

“I was joking. You shouldn’t think like that! You’re awesome, dude. Even if you forget, that doesn’t make you any less of the amazing animal you are.”

“You sure you don’t want to be an inspirational greeting card maker when you get older? Cuz that stock advice is perfect for something like that.”

I’m a little taken aback, and my mouth falls open. “Wha--Stock advice? How dare you insult my sisterly love! Well, at least this so-called ‘stock advice’ is also the truth. Seriously, Roger, you shouldn’t get so down on yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I see the way you act sometimes. You don’t have to speak to convey what you feel.” The microwave has long since beeped by now. At least, I thought I heard it. I put my paw on Roger’s shoulder. He has a defeated look on his face.

“I get sad a lot. I don’t know why. I guess the forgetting thing is one factor...But there’s something else there…I feel isolated from everyone else.” He looks at his feet and his ears are droopy. I am touched by this emotional bonding we’re having. He hasn’t opened up to me before. Well, not like this.

“Why? You have friends that like you and a family that loves you,” I say, wanting to grab those words and immediately shove them back down my throat. I had sounded like my dad.

“Yeah...” Gross. Sounding like my dad is the last thing I want. Not that he sucks, like apparently most dads do, just that I don’t want people thinking I’m like my father. I feel weird about that.

I have an impulse to check the time and look at the green numbers on the microwave, but instead, I just find a confirmation that my ramen is finished. I get the food out, thankful it’s still warm. Time to add the flavoring. As I do this, I check the time on the oven instead. “Looks like you gotta get going.”

“Yeah,” Roger says, clearly feeling awkward over the talk we had.

“Don’t forget your phone.”

“I won’t.”

Roger leaves, and I’m left with a deeply unsatisfied feeling. That wasn’t how I wanted the conversation to end, at all. There was still more to discuss!

And Roger still didn’t rinse out his bowl.

“Good morning, Austin, Texas! It looks like we’re in for even more rain than yesterday, Bill.”

“That’s right, John, the animals--” The car radio cuts off as my phone’s Bluetooth connects.

“You think?” I say, watching the rain patter against my windshield. I turn on my wipers. Hooray. Another day of rain.

It’s not that I don’t love rain or anything. It feels nice, sounds wonderful, and looks pretty. It’s just inconvenient in a lot of ways. Like, it creates mud, for one. For two, the roads are more slippery and the visibility is decreased. For three, it becomes really humid after it rains. I don’t think anyone likes that feeling.

But who cares about rain. That conversation with Roger is still bothering me. I grip the steering wheel, even though the car isn’t moving. I wish he didn’t have to leave so early for marching band. If he had left at the same time I did, I could give him a ride, and also we might be able to continue their conversation. I know that when he gets home later he’s not going to want to talk about anything. It’s almost two hours after he left and now it’s my turn to head to school, but I’m just sitting here. I don’t even pay attention to which song is playing. _Get moving, Page. You’ve got things to do._

I eventually find my mind and get on my way.

I’m wrapping up an assignment in second period when the bell rings and the students flood out into the hallways. I don’t waste any time finishing the assignment and just shove it into my backpack, much like the talk with Roger. It’s in the back of my mind...for now.

I sling my backpack over one shoulder and walk out of the room. I know exactly where I want to eat this time. Even though Lily would miss me, I can always text her later. I’m sure she’ll be fine. Instead of just being rude, I send her a quick text, telling her where I’ll be.

In no time I’ve reached my destination.

“...doesn’t even know what a simple sentence is. Well, you know what? He’s a simple-ton. Huh? Get it?” A ridiculous german shepherd wiggles his brows at a very unamused Nick. I slide into the seat next to Tyler without saying anything. I feel like announcing your own presence is pointless. People will either notice, or they already have.

“Woah, Page? What are you doing here?” Tyler asks, and I already have a witty response.

“Oh, you know. I go to school here. Who knew?”

“No, I mean what are you doing _here?_ ”

“Just thought I’d come and hang.”

“Sweet,” Nick finally spoke. And I thought Nora was the silent one.

“What’re you guys talking about?” I look at Tyler and then Nick.

“Just one of my teachers. He’s a dumbass,” Tyler says, taking a bite of some very unappealing taco salad. “He doesn’t even know what a _simple_ sentence is. That’s the easiest one! And he’s the teacher.”

“Maybe he just made a mistake,” I say. I don’t like being negative about things.

“That’s what I was thinking,” said Nick. “Maybe he was just confused or something.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll give him a chance to redeem himself. Happy?” Tyler sips from his carton of chocolate milk.

“Yep,” I say. Now was the time. The real reason I came to eat lunch with them. “So, I have an idea.”

“Lay it on us,” Nick says.

“I have the perfect song that’s gonna make Water On Fire one of the most known bands in the United States. People all over will be talking about us and listening to our music. We might even get a record deal. Think about it!”

“Woah, no way! That’s awesome!” Nick exclaims and I smile widely, full of energy and ready to explain my masterpiece of an idea.

“Wait, you mean you’re gonna write a song?” Tyler asked, not smiling or having his eyes brimming with excitement like I thought he would.

“Yeah? Is that okay?” I start to worry a little.

“Um...I dunno. Nick has kinda always written our songs…” Tyler rubs his arm. I worry more. This isn’t how I expected him to react at all. Nick makes a confused face, but he’s also smiling? It looks strange.

“What’s the matter with letting another band member write a song? I could use some help,” Nick says, which I expected from a guy like him.

“Yeah, but...What if it’s not as good?” Tyler asked.

“Plenty of bands have songs that aren’t as good as others, but I’m sure that Page’s song will be awesome.”

“I really believe in myself,” I say. “If I thought it wouldn’t be worth it, next to songs like Kill Order and The Time I Fell Off, then I wouldn’t even be bringing this up to you guys! I spent a lot of time thinking this through and I already have an idea for the lyrics and rhythm. Come on, Tyler.”

“What did the others say?” The german shepherd pushes his bowl forward, all the food inside eaten. There wasn’t a scrap left. I don’t think he licked his bowl, but I wouldn’t put it past him. There’s a shiba inu licking their bowl in the booth in front of us.

“Oh...Well, I haven’t asked them yet. Hold on. I need to get food.” I take a break from talking and hurry to the lunch line, getting quesadillas and then returning to my band mates. “I don’t even know where Boris and Nora eat lunch.” I dig into my food.

“I thought Boris was part of the homecoming committee,” Nick say, turning to Tyler. “Right?” He’s barely touched his food, which interests me, but I wouldn’t question.

“Oh, um...I think so? He’d be in room 109 if that’s the case.”

“Oh sweet, thanks guys.” I take another bite of food before grabbing my backpack.

“Where are you going?” Nick asks. I straighten the bottom of my hoodie with a paw and scoot out of the booth.

“To see Boris, obviously.”

“I still don’t know how I feel about it,” Tyler says, and I frown a bit.

“I’ll prove that it’s gonna be awesome. See ya!” I take off, jogging through the halls, dodging animals of all shapes and sizes and make it to room 109, where I fortunately find the otter. He’s on his knees and painting a black ‘O’ on a blue banner.

“B,” I say, nudging his butt with my foot. Luckily, his hands don’t react as much as his head which turns quickly toward me. The ‘O’ is secure.

“Oh, Page, what are you doing here? You know, I’m kind of busy right now.” He stood up, wiping his paws on his jeans, getting some black paint on them.

“I know, but I have to prove a point to Tyler and I need your permission.”

“Um, okay. Why?”

“I have an idea for a song that’s gonna make us famous,” I explain, tapping my foot.

“Oh really? What’s it called?”

“I dunno. But I _do_ know that it’s going to be awesome.”

“Mm. Okay. Can you give me a lyric?” he asks, kneeling back down and picking up the paintbrush, dipping it into the black paint can and rubbing the excess paint off on the edge. I watch as I think about the lyrics.

I also notice that some animals in the room are messing around with paint and others are working on attaching something to a string, and some are just talking or discussing matters. No one even cares that I’m here, which is how it should be. Just because someone came in doesn’t mean _everyone_ needs to look at them.

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“Well...Uh...It, um...It starts with ‘When you’re awake, but you’re sleeping?’” I say this sentence like a question because I don’t know what Boris will think of it.

“And?” He finishes painting a large ‘M’ and starts on the next letter. My eyes move left and right and I look down at him.

“Uh...And?”

“That’s it?” He sounds unimpressed.

“Obviously not, Boris. I just don’t want to spoil anymore of the lyrics.”

“You don’t even have a song title.”

“Okay, well, are you fine with me writing a song or not?” I watch his brush strokes and I have to admit, I admire how smooth they are. I wonder if he paints regularly? It would be a pleasant surprise to discover Boris is an up and coming artist. Maybe he has some other work I could see sometime…

“Yeah, I’m all for it. As long as it isn’t a jumbled mess or over six minutes,” the otter says, his tail dragging along the floor as he moves. I cross my arms and smirk at him.

“What, can the wittle otter not handle it?” Baby voice. The Ultimate Mock.

“Excuse me? You might not know, Page, but I played a piano medley from The Legend of Zelda that lasted twenty-four minutes!”

“You like Zelda?” I blink.

“I haven’t really played much myself, but the music is awesome. Leah and Molly are super into it, though. I can’t recall, have you met them?”

I shake my head, intrigued. “Who are these mystery ladies you speak of?”

“Well, they’re my sisters.”

“Woah, you never told us you weren’t an only child.”

“You never asked.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause as I try to figure out what to say. “I guess personal things aren’t usually on my mind when we’re at practice. I mean, we don’t usually have time to just sit down and talk. We meet up for practice and then go our separate ways. It honestly drives me crazy. That’s why I went out on a limb and ate dinner with Nick yesterday.”

“You went on a date with Nick?” Boris smiles at me.

“Ate dinner with,” I correct him. Boris please.

“Same thing.”

“Actually, it’s not.”

“Is it, though? I mean, maybe I’m just crazy, but you two obviously have chemistry.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are.”

Just then, a grey wolf comes into the room. Man, he’s tall. A jock, most likely. He walks right up to Boris, who stands up and wipes his paws on his jeans again (I didn’t realize Boris wouldn’t mind his pants getting so messy?). “Uh, hey, Boris. Here’s that dollar I owed ya.” The wolf takes a crumpled dollar out of his pocket and unfolds it. What a wrinkly mess. There’s a slight tear on the top. I’m sure that the wolf probably just found the bill and rushed over here. He holds it out for the small otter, who takes it.

“Thanks, Damien, and you’re welcome. Just make sure you don’t make it exactly like mine.”

“I won’t. See you next time, B!” With a smile and a wave, the wolf leaves. I turn to Boris, raising a brow. He obviously know I’m silently questioning what that was about, because he immediately explains.

“It’s like a little side business. They bring me two copies of their homework and a dollar, or two depending on the homework, then I do one page for them, and they use my page to finish their own page (that way it isn’t in my handwriting). I always tell them to make sure they don’t copy it exactly, that way teacher’s won’t get suspicious,” he tells me, looking at someone else, clearly.

I turn my head, but I must have missed the animal, because there’s nothing there. I look back at Boris. “Isn’t that, like, against the rules?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Oh. Wow. Can’t say I’m not surprised. This sounds so weird coming from you. Bad Boy Boris.”

“Eh, if I’m gonna be smart and shit, might as well get some money out of it.”

“That’s devious, dude. Get a job.”

“It would be kinda hard to attend school and rehearsal and a job. Can’t have all three.”

“Oh, yeah. But you do realize you’re, like, messing up their ability to understand the work? The point of homework is so that we can check our understanding of the content we’re taught in class and why am I defending homework right now…? I don’t care about it.”

“Ah, for two copies and a d--”

“I get it Boris, and I can handle it. Just because I don’t care about it doesn’t mean I won’t do it. Go ahead and do your weird side business and I’ll keep getting my own shit done.”

“I was planning to continue anyway.”

“I figured.” I look at the time. “I should probably go find Nora before lunch ends so I can see if she’s cool with me writing the song.”

“You probably won’t get much out of her. Do you even know where to look?”

I shrug and pull out my phone. “I can text her.”

“Oof, might not wanna waste your time. She won’t answer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I tried texting her a few times. She never texted back.”

“I’ll still give it a shot, just in case.”

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He gets back on his knees and continues painting black letters. I access Nora’s contact through the band group chat and select “Send Message.”

 

Me: Hi, Nora. It’s Page. The bunny. We’re in the same band.

Nora: I know. You’re the only one that spells your name like that.

Me: Really?

Nora: It’s usually spelled with an i. Paige.

Me: That looks weird.

 

“Did she respond?” Boris asks, finishing the word he was painting. ‘HOMECOMING.’

“Hahaha, yeah she did.”

“Bitch, no way. Why didn’t she respond to me?”

“Oh yeah, who wouldn’t wanna talk to Boris the Bad Boy? You must have people breaking down your door, you poor thing.”

“Shut up,” he groans. I laugh.

“What did you ask her anyway?’

“I asked her how to make spaghetti.”

“Seriously? What else?”

“That’s it. I literally typed ‘How do you make spaghetti?’”

“Wait. Did you even introduce yourself?” I squinted.

“Oh, fuck. No.” We both laugh.

“You sure you want people paying you to do their homework, Mr. Smart Guy?”

“Fuck you, Page,” he chuckles. “And quit with all the nicknames. I’m just Boris.” I’m glad he took the joke lightly. I don’t really think he’s dumb. One little mistake like this doesn’t make you dumb.

“At least we have our answer to why she didn’t respond,” I comment, looking down at her message.

 

Nora: Maybe. Did you need something?

Me: I was wondering where you were.

Nora: Oh. Nowhere.

Me: Nora.

Nora: I’m not good with other animals.

Me: I just need to ask you something.

Nora: Can’t you ask me here?

Me: Oh.

Nora: Yeah.

Me: Tyler is skeptical of me writing a song for the band because Nick always writes them. Boris already said he’s cool with it.

 

As I type and send the message, the bell rings. I had seen that she was typing, but now the little dots disappear. “Aw, man.”

“You should probably get to class, Page,” Boris says, as if that weren’t obvious.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin’. See you later, Mr. Boris.” I walk out, leaving the otter with black paint on his pants behind. As I’m walking down the hall I receive a text from Nora.

 

Nora: You’re thinking about writing a song?

Me: Yeah. We’re gonna be famous because of it.

Nora: Oh. I’m fine with it.

Me: Sweet! I’ll be sure to tell Tyler. Uh...Did you wanna hang after school maybe?

Nora: Not really.

Me: Oh.

Nora: Sorry. Maybe later.

Me: Okay.

It’s after school and I’m listening to the hum of the engine as I configure my radio. The windows are rolled down and it’s pretty humid outside, but it’s not as terrible as it could be.

I get the radio set up and A Giant Dog’s Seventeen comes on. I smile, enjoying the energy of my favorite band. Their local to Austin, which I always find so rad because their music is so good.

The passenger door opens and in climbs Roger, not speaking a word. I smile at him. “Hey, Roj.”

“Hey.” He looks out the window. This would be a bad time to bring up the conversation from this morning. Damn.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine. Boring, mostly. Some kid broke his wrist during morning rehearsal.”

“Oh, woah. What happened?”

“Well, since it’s been raining on and off, the marching field has been pretty slippery. It’s kinda funny. But this fox was running to his spot and I guess he took a weird turn or something because the next thing you know there’s just this fox there lying on the ground sobbing and holding his wrist.”

“Oof, damn. Poor fox.”

“It’s fine. He’s kind of an asshole.”

I turn down the music. “Roger?”

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you _really_ okay? I’m your big sister and I’m worried about you. You used to be excited about telling me about your day, even when nothing exciting happened. You loved riding home with me. Now you just sit there and it all feels really disconnected and don’t use hormones as an excuse. Did something happen?”

“...I guess life happened.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah.”

“Explain.” I pull out of the parking lot and begin driving as A Giant Dog plays lowly over the speakers.

“I don’t want to, Page.”

“You can tell me. You know I’ll understand. I always do.”

“It’s hard to talk about without feeling sad. Shit, it’s hard to even think about without feeling sad.”

I remember what he’s talking about now and feel bad because it’s one of those shitty things that can’t be helped. “Is this about Sam?” He turns to look at me and nods with sad eyes.

“Ever since he left...it’s been hard. I’ve had a lot of time to think about myself and I feel like I’m just this small guy nobody notices. I’ve had worse thoughts. I just...Now that he’s gone I’ve had time to think. There’s no one there to distract me from the big picture. Every time I’m alone I just think about what a loser I am, forgetting all the time, making dad upset, not making friends like you told me to--”

“Wait, but what about that squirrel you told me about? What was his name...Forrest?”

“He’s cool and all, but we barely talk. He’s no Sam.”

“There. That’s the problem.”

“What?”

“You have this mindset.”

“What mindset?”

“You know, the one where you compare everybody to Sam? If you gave people a chance, maybe you can find another Sam?”

He turns the other way and huffs. “How could you say that?”

“Because, Roj, it’s the truth, and you need to see that.”

“I can’t just replace Sam like I’m some woman who lost her husband and got remarried!”

“What?” I raise a brow.

“I’m saying I can’t replace him, Page.” He looks forward and his nose twitches. “Where are we going anyway? _Please_ don’t tell me dad is making us get food or groceries or something, I just want to go home.”

“Why? So you can lock yourself in your room and lay in bed the rest of the day?”

“Yes!”

“You do realize you’ve missed, like, two months worth of family night?”

He blinks. “No…” This is it. Maybe I’m finally getting somewhere.

“Yeah, that’s like eight missed movies.”

“Oh…”

“You tell me that you feel isolated, but you’re not doing anything to help your case. You feel isolated because you’re doing it to yourself, Roger.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” The car turns left into a local ice cream shop’s parking lot, if you could even call it that. Talk about small. I park and look at Roger.

“I didn’t even realize all that. Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Join us next time.”

“I just never feel like socializing anymore.”

“Roger.”

“It’s true! I just feel like curling up under my covers all the time. It’s stupid, I know. But it’s nice.”

“Oh. It’s nice. It must be really nice being alone all the time. You’re contradicting yourself here. First, you feel isolated, then you like being alone. Which is it, Roj?”

“It’s both.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Me either…”

I just sigh and sit back, looking at a couple walk into the door of the ice cream shop. I thought this would cheer Roger up, but it doesn’t seem like he even cares that we’re here. He probably just wants to go home. Why am I forcing it? Damn it, Page.

“There are other things,” he says, scratching his knee.

“Oh?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me when we get inside.”

“Okay.” I turn off the car and we get out. I feel little drops of water hit my fur and I look up at the grey, grey sky.

Here comes the rain.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs mentioned in this chapter:
> 
> alt-J - Something Good https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9LgT_LBR4
> 
> A Giant Dog - Seventeen 
> 
> Eurhythmics - Here Comes the Rain Again https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzFnYclqj6l


End file.
